The oak grain deepens by candlelight
in a corner of the bustling room.
Beneath undisturbed dinnerware,
the place settings set upon
a vacant table for two.
In the middle of an insignificant month,
on some random, middle day of the week,
tables sit people conversing about their meals,
but at the table for two,
there is no one who eats.
There is no apparent significance of today’s date,
And the table for two sits alone in view of the on looking balcony.
As customers leave the evening grows late,
There is no one who comes, and yet the table for two still looks inviting.
A table for two, a reservation was held,
But what unforeseen circumstance
Has delayed these anonymous guests?
Perhaps there is a name on a list somewhere
With a number to reach the party involved.
Perhaps there is a babysitter who canceled at the last minute,
And now a young mother and father are tending to sleepy children.
Perhaps there is couple arguing in the parking lot outside,
Having never left the car since they arrived,
Neither ready to surrender or come step inside.
Perhaps there is a car stalled on the overpass, broken glass,
with unconscious passengers running late for their dinner plans.
Never the less their seats wait,
to celebrate a moment that won’t come,
To be served meals that have grown cold
By candlelight cast askew,
For no one is coming to claim their seats,
at this vacant table for two.